Bigamy -- Fiction; Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction
“Ay! ay! to be sure. I remember. We were both engaged in the serious
business of croquet at the time--and it was doubtful which of us did
that business most clumsily. Well, here is the opportunity; and here
am I, with all my worldly experience, at your service. I have only one
caution to give you. Don’t appeal to me as ‘the head of the family.’ My
resignation is in Lady Lundie’s hands.”
He was, as usual, half in jest, half in earnest. The wry twist of humor
showed itself at the corners of his lips. Arnold was at a loss how to
approach Sir Patrick on the subject of his niece without reminding him
of his domestic responsibilities on the one hand, and without setting
himself up as a target for the shafts of Sir Patrick’s wit on the other.
In this difficulty, he committed a mistake at the outset. He hesitated.
“Don’t hurry yourself,” said Sir Patrick. “Collect your ideas. I can
wait! I can wait!”
Arnold collected his ideas--and committed a second mistake. He
determined on feeling his way cautiously at first. Under the
circumstances (and with such a man as he had now to deal with), it
was perhaps the rashest resolution at which he could possibly have
arrived--it was the mouse attempting to outmanoeuvre the cat.
“You have been very kind, Sir, in offering me the benefit of your
experience,” he began. “I want a word of advice.”
“Suppose you take it sitting?” suggested Sir Patrick. “Get a chair.” His
sharp eyes followed Arnold with an expression of malicious enjoyment.
“Wants my advice?” he thought. “The young humbug wants nothing of the
sort--he wants my niece.”
Arnold sat down under Sir Patrick’s eye, with a well-founded suspicion
that he was destined to suffer, before he got up again, under Sir
Patrick’s tongue.
“I am only a young man,” he went on, moving uneasily in his chair, “and
I am beginning a new life--”
“Any thing wrong with the chair?” asked Sir Patrick. “Begin your new
life comfortably, and get another.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the chair, Sir. Would you--”
“Would I keep the chair, in that case? Certainly.”
“I mean, would you advise me--”
“My good fellow, I’m waiting to advise you. (I’m sure there’s something
wrong with that chair. Why be obstinate about it? Why not get another?)”
“Please don’t notice the chair, Sir Patrick--you put me out. I want--in
short--perhaps it’s a curious question--”
“I can’t say till I have heard it,” remarked Sir Patrick. “However,
we will admit it, for form’s sake, if you like. Say it’s a curious
question. Or let us express it more strongly, if that will help you.
Say it’s the most extraordinary question that ever was put, since the
beginning of the world, from one human being to another.”
“It’s this!” Arnold burst out, desperately. “I want to be married!”
“That isn’t a question,” objected Sir Patrick. “It’s an assertion. You
say, I want to be married. And I say, Just so! And there’s an end of
it.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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